


I'm Lost & It's You I Find

by Pyrix



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: M/M, and iiiiii will always love youuuuuu, spoilers for the first part of heavensward
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 03:13:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11327511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyrix/pseuds/Pyrix
Summary: The Warrior of Light accepts Haurchefant's invitation and catches a serious case of feelings.





	I'm Lost & It's You I Find

He hadn’t thought Haurchefant was serious about his invitation. Or, like, knew what he was implying. Ishgardians were an uptight lot, Haurchefant probably didn’t even know how suggestive “perhaps you would like to warm up in my quarters?” actually was, Baze reasoned.

Well, jokes on Baze’ya, because he totally did mean that. And double jokes on him, because he’s been eying Haurchefant since the day he walked into his office. So obviously he said yes, and here they are now, sitting on Lord Haurchefant’s bed buck-ass naked.

His dick is long and slightly curved, with a nice girth that makes Baze's mouth water. Haurchefant doesn't seem embarrassed at the staring, instead reaching down to grip himself as if to say, here, have a good look, because this is going to rock your world. 

Okay, maybe that's a little bit of Baze's brain talking. But the point is, he's never had an Elezen lover, and he's beginning to wonder what took him so long to get around to it. Perhaps it's that there's never been someone quite like Haurchefant, tall and handsome and so, so gentlemanly, the kind who would stop if Baze so much as suggested displeasure. The thought makes his chest feel strange.

"Do you have oil?" Baze asks before his weird gooshy feelings overtake him. Eyes on the prize. The awkward lack of movement has gone on long enough. Haurchefant stares at him for a few seconds before lighting up in understanding.

"Yes, it's in the bedside drawer to your left—ah, third drawer. Yes, in there." With a triumphant noise, Baze's hand closes around the glass vial. He starts slowly, one finger circling his rim before gently pushing in with a hiss. It hasn't really been that long, he'd had a brief tumble with Thancred before the—well, the whole 'false regicide accusation and all my friends including said hookup are probably dead' thing, but Haurchefant's cock is very much proportionate to the rest of him and if Baze wants any chance of moving tomorrow he can't rush prep. When he pushes in the second finger and rubs just right, with an accompanying moan, Haurchefant speaks again, eyes firmly fixed on Baze's ass.

"Let me," he says. He fumbles for the vial without looking away once, which is pretty flattering. So is the way his breath hitches when Baze pulls his fingers out of his hole, leaving it slightly loose and gaping.

Haurchefant's dick isn't the only thing that's proportionate. His fingers are long and careful, smattered with calluses from years of knighthood. It takes him a few moments to find the sweet spot but when he does he has Baze on his back, writhing and hissing like a feral cat, one and then two and then three fingers fucking him hard. It's amazing, Baze thinks. How quickly Haurchefant can take him apart, make him beg like a house pet whining for scraps. His sisters would berate him for being so damn easy but they don't know how hot Haurchefant gets him, the way he looks up at Baze like he's otherworldly. Like he's about to buy a boatload of crystals and start worshipping. A furious blush crawls down Baze’s chest, leaving his skin tingly and overheated (that might just be the impending orgasm talking, though).

"Enough," he gasps when he feels his belly make its telltale clench. "Just—fuck me. Please." 

Slowly, as if he can't bear to, Haurchefant withdraws his stupidly long Elezen fingers and then shuffles up to finally press his gorgeously long Elezen cock against Baze's heat. He looks him in the eye as if to ask, are you sure? Really? Like, I know I've asked you about ten times but _really_ really? So Baze bares his teeth, hooks his right leg around Haurchefant's waist and yanks him forward and in. Fuck that hesitation shit.

For a second he thinks he's chewed off more than he can handle. It's all intense pressure and a little bit of pain, his body struggling to accommodate the largest thing he's ever shoved up his poor ass. But fingers did the job well enough because soon the head of Haurchefant's dick is in, and the pain turns into pleasure at the sheer stretch. The man himself is panting, eyes blown wide with arousal. Baze can feel the arms on either side of his head trembling.

"You—by the Fury," Hauchefant mumbles. "You are—you are a wonder. You," and he doesn't say anything after that, just pushes the rest of his dick inside in a slow smooth slide that seems to go on forever. Baze feels like he's going crazy at the sensation. He can't fucking take it, it's too much and too thick; his body can do a lot of things but the heat of Haurchefant's apparently endless dick may be the one thing that breaks him. 

But his body does take it, and Haurchefant's dick does end somewhere, because after what feels like a lifetime he feels the press of Haurchefant's balls against his ass. Haurchefant's forehead drops down to rest against his, and for a moment it's just them. Their breaths mingling in the amber light. Dust motes dancing around their faces, the way time feels as though it’s wading through honey. Slow and warm, a kind of sweetness. 

The gentleness breaks when Haurchefant shifts a little and it makes Baze moan low in his chest. Because, hell yeah, he has a dick up his ass, sappy stuff aside. And oh gods more of that, please. Haurchefant obliges. For some reason Baze thought he'd be a talker in bed. Maybe it's due to how he is outside of it, all exuberance and flamboyance and sweet talk. The man could put Alphinaud out of a job if he wanted to. But Haurchefant is almost silent save his ragged breathing and the slap of skin, instead staring quietly down at Baze's face. It's equal parts disconcerting and embarrassing.

"What're—ah—you thinki—oh, thinking," Baze manages to say. He's sure he looks all kinds of terrible. His mouth is open and he's pretty certain he's drooling, and his hair is definitely a tangled mess. Haurchefant blinks. "I was just thinking...nevermind," he chuckles softly, pressing a kiss against Baze's collarbone. His lips burn. "It's a bit ridiculous."

"No, tell me, I wanna—I wanna know." The slide of Haurchefant's lips makes his heart stutter.

"I was just thinking about how lucky I am," Haurchefant admits. His ears are flushed red, and after hearing such a cheesy fucking line Baze's sure his are too. "See? I told you it was silly. I'm sure you've heard it a thousand times before, but I wanted to say it at least once."

Baze can't help it, he bursts into laughter at that. Who does Haurchefant think he is? Some kind of casanova who spent as much time breaking hearts in Eorzea as he did killing Primals? _Thancred?_ "Gods, no," he says after catching his breath. Because it's the truth. He's just a man who happened to stumble into fame and renown, a backwater desert boy who got lucky (or unlucky, depending on how you view it). "Congrats, you're the first. I'd give you a prize but..." He gives Haurchefant what he hopes is a seductive look before rolling his hips slowly, "Think you already got the best one." 

To his surprise Haurchefant isn't laughing with him like he usually would. His face is unreadable. "Truly? Has no one else told you how splendid you are?" he asks. His fingers run down the length of Baze's body lightly, like he's scared he'll bruise him if he presses too hard. Which is ridiculous. Baze took on Titan and was on the field only a week later, fed up with recovering from a laundry list of injuries that included broken bones and a concussion. He's not fragile. But the way Haurchefant looks at him makes him wonder if he might be, really.

Gods, what has Haurchefant done to him? One fuck and he’s got him domesticated. This can’t be happening, shouldn’t be. Before he can think himself into a frenzy Baze rolls his hips again, reveling in the grind, the way it makes his brain blank and fuzzy. Sex should be just that, sex. None of those pesky emotions. Because once you start feeling things you start thinking, and once you start thinking you start setting yourself up for disappointment. Haurchefant’s got it wrong, _he’s_ the lucky one, because there’s no way someone as noble and charming as Haurchefant hasn’t got hundreds of suitors eating out of his hand. And yet he’s somehow lost his mind long enough to invite a fugitive into his bed.

Haurchefant doesn’t seem to be on the same wavelength. “You’re absolutely stunning,” he whispers into a _very_ sensitive ear, thank you Miqo’te anatomy. “Ever since you walked into Camp Dragonhead, I knew right then that I’d never see anyone so beautiful.” Gods, has he no shame? And he just doesn’t stop. He keeps saying things, in between thrusts. Telling Baze how good he looks spread out on Haurchefant’s sheets like that. How well he’s taking his cock. How tight he is. Baze is losing his goddamn mind, and he mentally revises his earlier statement. Apparently Lord Haurchefant is extremely chatty when prompted.

Extremely talented, too, because every nerve in Baze’s body is electrified. Between the whispers and the vigorous fucking, he’s overwhelmed. There’s just so much—Haurchefant’s voice and hands and cock and face and eyes—and with a shout his stomach tenses and he comes. Just like that. He must have passed out right after because he wakes up to a damp towel gently rubbing his stomach and Haurchefant’s sheepish face hovering over his.

"Apologies, I, ah, couldn’t control myself,” he begins, and Baze blinks in confusion before he registers the sensation of something warm and sticky running out of him. He grins. 

“It’s okay, I quite like it,” he admits, cutting off Haurchefant mid-apology. Haurchefant goggles at him before breaking out into laughter, shaking his head. He finishes cleaning Baze and crawls into bed behind to him, pulling a fur over them both before wrapping an arm around Baze’s waist. His thumb begins to trace slow circles on his hip.

“You never fail to surprise me,” he admits, pressing a kiss into Baze’s neck. “I love that about you.”

Baze feels his heart stop for a second. Haurchefant’s arm tenses, just slightly, and his hand stops moving. “Forgive me. That was…inappropriate of me.” Silence, and then— 

“I quite liked that, too,” Baze mumbles. He tugs the fur up over his head and doesn’t catch the way Haurchefant’s breath stutters, but he does feel the way he relaxes. Continues rubbing, absentminded.

They’ll probably have to talk about this tomorrow, about what exactly they want from each other. Whether this is a one-time thing or not. But for once, Baze isn’t worried. 

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote like 90% of it on my phone, then asked a friend (thanks Z you're a real one) to help me edit it while my wifi was out. Ft. my player character because this is painstakingly self indulgent and I'm embarrassed. Title from Telepathy by Christina Aguilera.


End file.
